


Night Rain

by rockfantasyfan



Category: Guns N' Roses, Music and musicians
Genre: Gen, M/M, Male Slash, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 08:26:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14870279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockfantasyfan/pseuds/rockfantasyfan
Summary: Written as part of Rockfic.com 2017 A Very Kinky Rockfic Ficmas Fest. The prompt was 'Duff McKagan,Izzy Stradlin (Guns N Roses): Izzy is sitting on the roof in the rain so no one can see him crying (for whatever reason) and Duff brings him an umbrella.'





	Night Rain

January in L.A. sucked balls, there was no other way of looking at it. The rundown house the five band members shared was drafty and damp and, to make matters worse, gigs have been few and far between all winter. Duff and Slash had menial part time jobs, Axl had his job at the record store, Steven was unable to hold a job for more than a week and Izzy did what he did best, he hustled and dealt and did things none of the others really wanted to know about. Between them they managed to pay the rent with enough left over for booze and Ramen noodles, but it was fucking depressing. And it was getting to them. Tempers were short, nerves were frayed, and in spite of their best efforts even Steven and Duff, the most optimistic of them, were unable to keep up morale.  
By the time Duff walked home from the bus stop after work he was wet from the fine drizzle and chilled to the bone. Axl was sprawled on the couch in front of the TV and Duff crashed in the ratty chair, tossing his damp denim jacket in a corner.  
"Where is everyone?"  
Axl shrugged. "Where do you think? Out getting drunk."  
"All of them? Why didn't you go too?"  
"Hang around with Slash and Stevie when they're drinking? No thanks!"  
"You could have hung out with Izzy."  
"He isn't with them, he's around someplace. Came in about an hour ago and went straight upstairs. You tryin' to get rid of me or something?"  
"No, just wondering. What's on TV?"  
"Some bullshit cop show. There's macaroni and cheese on the stove if you want some."  
Duff stood and wandered into the tiny kitchen. What was on the stove may once have been macaroni and cheese but it was now a congealed orange glob and Duff scraped it into the garbage with a grimace. He was glad he'd grabbed some leftovers before leaving work.  
"Guess I'll go take a shower," he told Axl, passing through the living room to the stairs. The redhead merely grunted a reply.  
At the landing at the top of the stairs was a window looking out onto the roof and Duff cursed to himself, noticing it was open a couple of inches. He stepped up to close it, then squinted through the rain washed glass. He thought he saw someone out on the roof. It couldn't be a burglar, no one in their right mind would think anyone in that house had anything worth stealing. Curious, Duff raised the window and leaned out.  
There was a dark figure there, huddled at the edge of the roof, his arms wrapped around his knees. Looking closer, Duff saw it was Izzy sitting there unmoving, though it was raining harder now than it had been when Duff came home.  
"Iz? Hey, man, get inside!" The figure looked up but didn't move. "Izzy? Are you coming in?" No acknowledgment at all this time.  
Duff sighed, wondering if he was too drunk or high to care if he was getting soaked to the skin. Even so, he couldn't just leave him out there to catch pneumonia. Going to the room he and Izzy shared, Duff rummaged around in the closet and came up with a faded black umbrella. If Izzy wouldn't come in, at least he should have something to keep the rain off. Duff swung his long legs out the window and crept over to the edge next to Izzy.  
"Hey, what are you doing out here anyway?" He sat close enough to his friend for the umbrella to cover them both. Izzy didn't reply, he just pulled his arms tighter around his legs and laid his forehead on his knees. "Hey, are you wasted or something?"  
Izzy sighed, "No. Wish I was."  
Duff was puzzled at the tone of his friend's voice. Normally he was the picture of nonchalance, his midwestern drawl betraying no emotion whatsoever, but if Duff didn't know better he could have sworn the dark haired man sounded raw, his voice almost broken. Duff leaned closer, studying his face in the faint streetlight. He admired Izzy more than anyone he knew, he envied how nothing seemed to ruffle him, nothing seemed to get a rise out of him. Izzy looked up now, staring out into the night, his face wet with rain. Or was it rain? Wait a minute, was Izzy crying? No, couldn't be, Duff chastised himself. Not Izzy. The man had ice water in his veins.  
"Hey," Duff nudged the other man's arm, "lets get in outta the rain." The umbrella was doing a piss poor job of keeping them dry and Duff's legs were getting drenched.  
"Go back inside, Duff." Izzy sounded tired.  
"Not without you. Come on, man, you're going to get sick sitting out here."  
Izzy's only reply was a shrug so with a sigh Duff tried to draw his legs further under the umbrella and huddled into himself. He'd left his jacket in the living room and was wearing only the polo shirt he wore to work and jeans.  
"Duff, it's stupid for you to sit out here too." Izzy's tone was flat and he didn't look at the other man.  
"I'll go in when you do."  
"Oh, for Christ sakes!" Izzy let out an exasperated breath and stood, following Duff to the window and climbing back inside. The stairwell was dimly lit but still brighter than outside and the first thing Duff noticed were Izzy's red-rimmed eyes. Either he was already getting sick or he actually had been crying.  
"Come on, get some dry clothes on." He tugged at Izzy's sleeve and led him to their shared bedroom, snagging a couple threadbare towels from the bathroom on the way. The only light in their bedroom was the harsh overhead fixture and when Duff switched it on Izzy winced, but he accepted the towel Duff handed him and proceeded to strip off the sodden cotton shirt he was wearing. Duff removed his shirt as well and grabbed a fresh t - shirt from the basket of clean clothes in the corner.  
"You gonna tell me why you were sitting out there in the rain?"  
"No." was Izzy's only answer.  
Duff sighed, grabbing the other man's arm and turning him to face him. Facing him from just a foot away he saw with a start his first suspicion had been correct. Izzy had been crying. In fact, his eyes were still wet with unshed tears and he tore his arm away from Duff's grasp, though he knew it was too late and Duff was already onto him.  
"If something's wrong you know you can talk to me about it, right?" Duff's voice was gentle and he put his hand on Izzy's arm, not grabbing him this time but just for the human contact.  
"It's no big deal." Izzy muttered, once again moving away from Duff's touch.  
"You don't have to be Mr. Tough Guy all the time you know." Duff reminded him quietly. This got an unexpected reaction, though.  
"Yes, I do! You don't know anything about it, Duff!" Izzy sounded almost fierce, moving quickly away to dig through a pile of his own clothes in search of something reasonably clean to put on.  
Duff sat on the edge of the bed. "Maybe I don't. So why don't you tell me?"  
Izzy's shoulders drooped and he hung his head, shaking it slightly. He held a wrinkled white shirt in his hand but didn't put it on, he seemed to be thinking. He moved back over and sat next to Duff, still not looking at him.  
"It wasn't supposed to be like this, man." His voice was soft, almost a murmur, but Duff heard.  
"What wasn't?" he urged, matching the quiet tone.  
Izzy gestured vaguely. "Any of it. All of it. I came out to California to be a musician, not a fucking drug dealing junkie! You know what happened tonight?" He turned to face Duff then and the other man nearly gasped at the expression in his eyes. "I was going to my usual corner, I was half a block away, and I saw some other dealer there. I'd seen the guy around before, I was going to tell him to get the hell out of there, my contacts would be expecting me to be there. I was a dozen yards away, man, just a dozen yards, when this car came by and they shot him! They fucking shot the guy, Duff! Goddamnit, that could have been me! Maybe it was supposed to be me, it is my corner!"  
Izzy was crying again, though he was trying not to, and without thinking Duff wrapped his arms around his friend. This seemed to be all it took, Izzy broke down against Duff's bare chest and all Duff could do was hold him and rub his back. He had always been worried about Izzy doing what he did. They all worried about it, he knew, but the others brushed it off, saying Izzy was a grown man, he was tough, he could take care of himself. And he was tough, Duff knew that, but there was a limit for everybody and seeing someone gunned down right in front of his eyes had finally pushed Izzy past his limit. Duff's gut clenched in fear at the idea that Izzy could have been the intended victim but he knew it was a distinct possibility. The gangs had been expanding their territories, eliminating the small independant dealers. Duff realized he didn't want to face the possibility of losing Izzy.  
"Iz, man, take it easy, it's all right," he was murmuring soothing nonsense words as Izzy regained control and after a few minutes the smaller man pulled back and scrubbed his hand across his face.  
"Sorry, Duff, I'm sorry. Don't know what came over me. You're not going to tell the others, are you?"  
"That you nearly got shot?"  
"No," Izzy tried to laugh, "that I was crying."  
Duff hadn't removed his arm from Izzy's shoulders, "No, or course not. But.....you're not going to go back to that corner, are you?"  
"I have to!" Izzy shook his head, his voice resigned. "My regulars will be looking for me."  
"So what? Find a different place! Or better yet, stop dealing!"  
"You know I can't do that! I bring in more money than the rest of you put together."  
"So fucking what?!" Duff was getting exasperated now. "It's not worth getting shot!"  
Izzy shrugged. "Who would even care if I did? I haven't been in contact with my family for five years, they probably think I'm already dead."  
"We care, Iz! I....I care." Duff's voice faltered a little.  
Izzy made a vague gesture. "You can get another rhythm guitarist. You don't even need a rhythm guitarist, half the bands out there only have one guitarist."  
"I'm not talking about the band. I mean I care as a friend, as a person!"  
Izzy looked up at him then. "Why?"  
Duff opened his mouth, then stopped himself. He had been about to blurt out something he hadn't even realized himself until that moment and the realization floored him. Izzy was looking at him, almost challenging him to come up with a response.  
Fuck it, Duff thought. "Because I love you, Iz."  
Duff felt like he just made a life-changing proclamation but Izzy just gave a derisive smirk. "That's the kind of guy you are, Duff. You love injured sparrows and teddy bears. You're too soft for this bullshit we live, and I hope you stay that way."  
Duff forced down the hurt he felt. Izzy misunderstood him and he knew he didn't have the courage to say it any clearer. He looked away then went to get up from the bed to finish changing clothes, but suddenly Izzy reached out and grabbed his wrist.  
"Duff?”  
Duff didn't dare look at him. "Yeah?"  
"Thanks, man."  
“Sure.” Duff got up abruptly and busied himself digging for a pair of dry jeans. He felt Izzy’s eyes on his back.  
“Duff?”  
Duff didn’t turn. “Yeah?”  
“Come here.”  
Duff didn’t want to but he resumed his seat on the bed. Izzy reached out and took Duff’s chin in his hand, forcing him to look at him. Duff knew the other man could see the emotion in his eyes.  
“I love you too, man.” and Izzy leaned to place a soft kiss on Duff’s lips.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


End file.
